I Would Bring My Disabled Son to School across 3 Miles Daily, He Drives Me in an SUV Today – My Story

Kristina was only 17 years old when she gave birth to her disabled son, Evan. She worked hard to raise him alone and would have to pull him on a stroller to get him to school. Years later, what her son would do for her would leave her over the moon.

My name is Kristina, and my journey of motherhood has been a wonder, to say the least. I remember it like it was yesterday, the day I first laid eyes on my little miracle, Evan. Even though his father had left me not too long before his birth, I knew we'd be alright from the second I saw him.

I was only 17 years old when I had Evan, and I was by no means ready to be a mother, let alone a disabled child. The doctor's words still ring clear in my head to this day, the moment they brought his tiny body into my arms.

"It seems there were some major complications during childbirth. I am sorry to say, little Evan will never be able to use his legs," the doctor explained.

But even as he spoke, his voice faded into the far distance as I stared into Evan's little eyes. There was an inexpressible assurance that all would be well. That this obstacle would not stop my little Evan from being one of the brightest beacons of light in the sometimes dark world I've come to know. Even at the tender age of 17, I'd seen my fair share.

As I looked him in his sweet, beautiful eyes, I made him a promise; "Mommy will never give up on you, my baby. And you'll always get my best. No matter what."

Ten years later, Evan and I were still growing strong. While he was physically challenged, Evan was brilliant for his age. He was always at the top of his class, and sometimes it even seemed effortless.

Having fallen pregnant in my final year of high school and then having a full-time job raising a disabled child, my career options were pretty limited. I was lucky enough to find a job as a cleaner on a farm.

Evan and I lived a little distance from the city in a little old house I had inherited from my grandfather. This made things difficult as Evan went to school in the city.

I always encouraged Evan to prioritize academics, even from a tender age. This wasn't because he was physically challenged but because I genuinely believed he was academically gifted. At a young age, he understood concepts that went over my head as an adult.

"Evan, you need to study hard, okay? I can't have you growing up to just be someone's cleaner like your mother. I'm grateful that I can put food on the table for the both of us, but this isn't what I want for you," I would often remind him.

"I know, mommy. School isn't that hard. I'll become smarter and earn us a lot of money one day. And I think you're an awesome cleaner and even better, mommy!" he would often respond rather cheekily.

Evan went to school near the city, about 3 miles from where we lived. Unfortunately for us, because of Evan's disability, he couldn't walk to school, and the school bus couldn't pick him up from home because there wasn't a road there. Our neighbor used to help us get Evan to school, but he had since moved into the city.

So, sticking to the promise I made Evan at his birth, I had to make a plan no matter what. I took it upon myself to personally get Evan to school every day. I would bring him to school in a stroller and, in winter, a sled.

I would walk the whole 3 miles to and from school. But luckily for me, my work on the farm had made me slightly more able than most. It was no easy feat for my son and me, but it had to be done.

All Evan wanted to do was get to school and do the best he could so things could one day be better. Evan wasn't like any other child I'd met, and I don't just say that because he's my son.

From a young age, he was determined to look after us. He recognized that I did my part feeding him, sheltering him, and getting him to school. And despite his physical challenges, he truly believed he had the ability and responsibility to one day change our reality.

As if getting to school and back wasn't enough of a headache, some of the children at Evan's school started to pick on him. I was used to dealing with insults here and there over the years, but the teachers at his school had assured us that it wouldn't be a problem. And according to Evan, it never was.

"Remember the bigger picture, mom."

Things turned for the worst when I started bringing Evan to school in a stroller. Even as my son and I approached the school, I would hear some of their comments.

"Hey, Evan! You wearing a diaper too?!" a child would mock.

"Mommy, going to change your diaper before class, Evan?" another would add.

If it were up to me, I would have given those rude children a piece of my mind. But luckily for us, Evan was mature for his age and managed to block all of the insults out. He often urged me not to address them and one day said;

"Mom, if it doesn't bother me, it shouldn't bother you."

"But it does bother me, Evan. You're my baby. You don't deserve to be treated like that," I said.

"I know, mom. But, the more time I spend defending myself and explaining our situation, the less I have to focus. Remember the bigger picture, mom," he replied.

I had a couple of conversations with the principal before but I let it be after that conversation. Evan was very convincing that way, even as a child. I guess it was a kind of foreshadowing of where his journey would take him later on in life.

Also, a part of me was relieved that even though he was getting teased at school, it was more about him traveling in a stroller than being disabled. We sometimes joked about this, especially once the children grew tired of teasing him. We would joke about all things, even his disability.

"It's a part of you. Not a weakness or a secret. I've got a double chin, and your legs don't work well; who cares? It says nothing about what's inside. Always remember that, Evan. And don't let anyone tell you otherwise," I told him.

As the years progressed, Evan became more persistent in his goal to study well and aid us out of our difficult circumstances. There was a particular sense of determination Evan had about him. A resoluteness that only got stronger over the years and one I'd never seen in myself or his father.

I often thought, "Lord, what did I do to deserve such a child? Are you sure he's mine?" He was truly remarkable, and his disability made him more amazing. I knew people with perfect health that could never be as radiant, steadfast, and sure.

Evan began to feel sorry for me because the older he got, the harder it was for me to get him to school. But I kept to my promise and took him to school. Eventually, some of the parents at school heard of our circumstances, and one of the student's fathers offered to take Evan on the sidecar of his bike.

Evan eventually graduated from school with honors and earned a full scholarship to a university in the city. It was a prestigious university, and I couldn't have been happier for him. My face flooded with tears as I read his acceptance letter. Having never had the chance to go to university, I felt like it was my victory too.

"Don't cry, mom. This is only the first step; I still have to graduate. Remember the bigger picture," he reminded me as we warmly embraced.

Evan had chosen to study IT primarily because of the prospect of working from home. He could have easily gotten into any other course with his grades, but he was sure this was the path he wanted to take. He was also stoked that the university had state-of-the-art facilities for disabled students.

In the last year of his studies, I received a call from Evan that would blow my mind. I was finally beginning to see the bigger picture.

"Mom, I've got amazing news. You won't believe the call I just had," said Evan, more ecstatic than usual.

"What call? C'mon, Evan, you know I'm no good at guessing games. Out with it!" I insisted, already playing out a million possible scenarios in my head.

"Okay, so remember the big tech company job I applied to a couple months ago?" Evan asked.

"Mmm-hmm... I believe I remember you mentioning it... Wait, did they offer you something for after graduation?" I asked before going into a frenzy.

"Mom! Calm down. No, they didn't offer me anything for after graduation," he answered.

"Uhm... I don't understand. What are you telling me, Evan?" I asked, befuddled.

"They offered me a job, and they want me to start this Summer. I'll be working for them as I wrap up my final year. They even said they'd be flexible with my schedule so I can handle work and my studies," he explained.

"Oh, wow! My love, I'm so proud of you!!" I screamed, unable to contain my excitement.

"That's not even the best part. The pay is really, really good, mom. I've already found a lovely apartment in the city," he said.

I was completely over the moon, and I think I may have even annoyed my son a little. We stayed up for hours as I asked him a million questions about the new job.

Evan was getting paid three times what I was making. With his first salary, he was able to buy me everything that I had been saving up for months. I finally saw the bigger picture, and it was only the beginning.

In just three years, Evan was able to work up to a senior position in the company. With his new income, Evan was able to undergo surgery that allowed him to walk. He still had a bit of a limp and had to go for physiotherapy every week. But it was a huge step forward from the doctor's diagnosis all those years back.

I'll never forget the day he came to pick me up in his brand-new luxury SUV. Having my son drive me in this beautiful car was the most wonderful feeling. As we passed his old school, I remembered all those days walking those 3 miles in the stroller, and now my son was driving me around in an SUV.

Evan had rented out a new apartment in the city and decided he would take full custody of me. The bigger picture he talked of all those years had become our reality, and I couldn't be prouder or happier. It was just the two of us again, but the circumstances were completely different this time.

Fortunately, or unfortunately for me, Evan met a girl, and they fell in love. She seems like a really nice girl. And as much as I would love to keep staying with him, I fear it will interfere with the development of their relationship. Do you think I should go back to the old house or stay with my son?

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